Broken Promises
by The Darklight Angel
Summary: Glinda had passed the law to keep people out of Kiamo Ko the same day she had promised herself she would never recall Elphaba's death. Yet here she was, breaking the law she had instigated, just like she broke her own personal promise every night. Gelphie


**Broken Promises**

Sorry if it's written an odd way at the start, it's just something that came to me. I wrote this awhile ago for the Wicked Exchange Fic event on LJ and wicked_fics, and only decided to post it now. SOrry if it's written in an odd way at the start- it was just something that came to me.

Disclaimer - I don't own Elphaba, nor do I own Glinda or any of the places mentioned in this story. They all belong to Gregory Maguire, L. F. Baum, and whoever else may own a bit of them.

* * *

This shouldn't be happening.

Glinda shouldn't have been here, standing in this particular place. She had forbidden anybody to even come near the castle; no Ozian was allowed inside. No Ozian technically meant that even she herself was not permitted to be here. She had passed the law to keep people out the same day she had promised herself she would never ever recall the night of Elphaba's death, as if the legal restriction she placed on the land would help restrict her own mind and strengthen her will.

Yet here she was, standing in one of the many towers of Kiamo Ko; breaking the law she herself had instigated.

Just like she broke her promise every single night.

Not that she was doing it intentionally. It was her subconscious that did it; or rather, her subconscious that created the reason why she broke her promise: that reason, being nightmares.

Vivid, detailed nightmares, each happening exactly the way she remembered it; she would tell Elphaba that because of her, she has been changed for good. Then she would press her face, just barely reaching because of her lack of height, even with her heels that were more fashionable than functional.

There, though, was where the sweetness stopped and the meaning of nightmare came into effect.

She would be shoved (exactly like she was those years ago) behind a curtain, and forced to watch as her best friend- her _love, _for Oz's sake! - was melted, while she couldn't do anything to stop it.

She would come out from behind the curtain, tentatively calling out Elphaba's name, and then see it; the puddle of unknown liquid, and right in the middle, that pointed, ratty, weather beaten hat.

In her dream, she would pick up that hat and cradle it in her arms, just like she did then, forcing back tears. As that sense of finality and heartbreak would set in, she would wake up, kneeling in the middle of the floor in her chambers, a cold sweat drenching her flaxen curls. Her eyes would burn with actual unshed tears.

The pain from the dream, from the incident itself, would still be fresh; it would always renew itself, for when she wiped away her tears and her blurry vision returned to normal, she would realize that she was holding onto the actual, real hat, clutching it so tightly to her chest as if her life would end without it. Her body would do these things to her, every, single time.

While she had grown used to this sleepwalking of sorts, and her own body doing this, her body had gone too far this time.

Staring out the large window she had come through at the darkened Vinkus landscape, she wondered how she could have been able to do this. How she could have been able to conjure the bubble, AND manage to navigate it to here all in her sleep.

It didn't matter now. All that mattered now was that it would too dark for her to see where she was going if she were to float back to the palace now; that, and, the winds were too strong. The Vinkus was known for its strong winds; and in all honesty, she didn't want to try going back to the Emerald City and instead end up at her childhood home in the uplands.

She decided that there was no other choice but to stay in this wretched place until morning came, when the winds would settle enough and there would be some light to guide her back. So until dawn came, she was stuck in the setting of her worst nightmares.

How amusifying.

Glinda shivered as a cold wind suddenly blew in through the large window behind her. Partially because of the cold and partially because of the eerie whistling the breeze made as it traveled through the open door and down the stone stairs.

It was drafty too.

**Splendid.**

Glinda smirked as she thought about the castle. If she had ever come here when she was younger, she would have thought it to be a haunted castle, like those that were in scary tales, filled with ghosts and spirits and all sorts of things that would send chills down her spine. It would be a place she would never have dreamed of going in, for fear of spooks, scared, and her nightmares coming true.

Glinda's smirk slid right off her face as she remembered that it _was_ here that her worst nightmare came true.

As she felt the sense of despair that she now often associated with her best friend's death begin to rise once again to the surface, she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. She would NOT let herself get caught in it; not here, not now.

Glinda shivered once more as yet another gust of chilly air blew in behind her. If she was to stay here till the morning, it would be best for her to try and get some sleep. Obviously though, she would need at least some kind of warmth to do so.

She eyed the room critically. Nothing, absolutely nothing could be used to give her any sort of comfort whatsoever. There were only empty shelves, old rickety furniture, and a layer of dust covering everything, the grime remaining where it was even with the constant wind.

Glinda sighed. She should have knows this wouldn't be easy; nowadays, nothing was.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she quickly walked out of the room and descended down the stone staircase. Mounting the walls every now and then were old torches, fixated to their spot, still ready to be lit any time. As Glinda passed by them, she mumbled a quick spell underneath her breath causing the torches to burn and light the way.

Finally reaching the foot of the stairs, she squinted into the darkness that she had walked into. There was barely any light- only that from yet another window, and from the torches she had magically lit on her way down. She had only been here once before, and she had almost gotten lost. The castle was huge!

Thinking on the castle's large size, Glinda grimaced. She could barely imagine how long it would take for her to find something to help warm her up.

"I mustn't think about that now." She muttered to herself, as she headed down the long hallway. "I'll come across something sooner or later."

* * *

Some hours later, Glinda was ready to tear her hair out.

"How hard is it to find a blanket?!" She snarled out loud, after finding the fifteenth empty room in a row.

Running a hand roughly through her usually perfect curls (while resisting the urge to tug as hard as she could) she let out a feral growl that was almost _inhuman_, never mind unladylike. The refined upper-class woman that resided somewhere deep inside of herself was mortified at her own behaviour, absolutely ashamed of her manners and actions. Glinda ignored it though – manners and everything else be damned, she was frustrated!

Rubbing at her temples, Glinda sat down in a (dusted off) chair. Breathing deep, she tried to calm herself down enough so that she could think logically. Yet whenever she tried her mind would always come up blank. She was so frustrated, so confused, so sad, so lonely, and so damn _tired _that finally, she couldn't handle it anymore.

"Damn it Elphaba! This is your entire fault! She screeched, leaping from her seat "It's because of you and my stupid nightmares that I'm in this mess!" Her hands were balled into fists because of her fury. Her breathing was heavy as she glared into the dark corners of the room, as if her old roommate were lurking in the shadows, laughing at her the entire time.

As her breathing evened out, Glinda slowly realized just what she had done. She uncurled her hands and shook her head in disbelief, a chuckle somehow working its way out of her mouth and becoming a full blown laugh. What was she doing?

She was going insane, that was what. Actually, it more like she was going to _go_ insane, if she didn't get a hold of herself.

Glinda shook her head once more, sighing and placing a hand against a stone wall, leaning on it tiredly. How could she think to blame it on Elphaba? The woman couldn't have done t. She wasn't even alive; in fact, she had...

_'__Stop it' _She chided herself. ''_You know better than to think of that, especially here of all places.'_

Yet still, she couldn't help it. Her nightmares could renew the pain; and thinking about that night had almost the same effect. It wasn't as strong; but here, it hurt even more. Glinda closed her eyes to try and block it all out, but behind her closed eyelids, it was even worse. She could see it; the melting all over again. She was scared to open her eyes- seeing where she was could possibly send her over the edge. Yet she wasn't sure what was worse; the memory playing behind her eyes, or the harsh reality that set back in the minute she opened her eyes.

_Wait._

Glinda's eyes snapped open as she recalled what she had just thought.

_Seeing where she was could possibly send her over the edge._

_Where she was..._

Of course! Standing up, she smiled and headed towards a certain room, easily finding her way through the dark. The first time was the only time she had been here, but that one time was all she needed. If she could work her way through the unlit halls once, she could do it again. Why hadn't she thought of this before? Obviously, Elphaba would have some blankets in her own room. She should have known!

Yet as she neared in front of the only familiar wooden door in the castle, she remembered something else.

Behind that door... was where it all happened.

Glinda paused; her arm outstretched in mid air, fingertips only inches away from touching the metal of the doorknob. She stared at it, as if staring at it would answer the questions running through her mind. Should she go in? Or shouldn't she?

But that was just the tip of the iceberg. Underneath those two, she was asking herself much deeper questions.

Could she handle being in there again? It hurt enough just being in the same castle- and she could only push it back for so long. The same room though... all her restraint against breaking down would crumble sooner or later. Was she strong enough?

Was she ready?

In all honesty, Glinda didn't think she would _ever_ be ready.

'_But,' _She thought to herself as she grasped the door knob and twisted it, ignoring the pain and regrets that was building with every second, '_Sometimes you just have to press on.'_

The door creaked like all the rest had as she opened it. There, in front of her, were those oh so familiar steps. As Glinda proceeded down them, she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her – painful pangs had been hitting her all the while, but that had to have been the strongest she had felt so far. Maybe... no, definitely, it was because of the fact she had done this years ago, and the memory and sensations were unluckily still fresh as ever.

She was still just as awkward on and frightened of falling off the steep staircase, even now when she wasn't in her heels and layered blue gown, but barefoot and wearing only a nightdress and a robe that she had (thankfully) accidentally worn to bed. She could see the outline of the stand with the torch in the stone basin that acted as a safeguard and a reflector. And there, even though she couldn't see it directly, was the space – the space where Elphaba had been pacing that night. The space where they had sang to each other. The space, where...

"No." She whispered to herself, refusing to let the tears that had remained absent make a sudden appearance. She steeled her resolve, and walked up to the stand, saying a spell, lighting up the torch and illuminating the room.

There, very, very, _very _discreetly tucked into the corner was Elphaba's bed. Glinda had barely noticed it the last time- maybe it was because of the fact that even with the light, she hadn't been able to see it properly.

And maybe it was also because of the fact that the blanket on top of it was the same gray shade of the stone.

Glinda picked it up, tucking it under her arm, never mind the fact that it was somewhat dusty. This was what she had looking for, for hours on end and she would use it whether it was immaculately clean as her sheets in the palace or not. Now, all that mattered was getting out of the room.

She turned around; the scene from her nightmares assaulting her senses once more. The longer she stayed in here, the harder it was to keep herself in check. Slowly, she walked toward the stairs, trying her hardest to focus on where she was going, rather than on the memories that grew stronger.

She started to pick up her pace, going from a walk to an almost jog; as her eyes betrayed her and strayed to certain locations she began to see the memories replay outside her head, in the exact places that they had before. She closed her eyes to block it out, but everything became even worse. In her head, everything was amplified, clearer, and sharper with every step.

**Step**

'_Who can say if I've been changed for the better?'/_

**Step**

_I have been changed...'_

**Step**

'_No one can know you were here.'_

**Step**

'_AGGGHH-!!!'_

Glinda eyes opened quickly as she heard a scream, similar to the one in her head, echo around the room. Briefly, she wondered who had shrieked, before she realized that it was she herself who had done so; from falling, if the pain in her knees, wrists, and torso was any sign.

"Oww..." She groaned all signs of her previous distress gone as she began to check all aforementioned parts. There were scrapes – as she expected- and the heels of her hands were raw and red, but there was nothing too serious; now there was only one thing she was concerned about.

'_What did I trip over?'_

Turning around, she squinted at the floor, unable to make much out of anything; the torchlight could only illuminate so much. Feeling around the floor, she eventually came along something- large enough for her to trip over, but small enough so as not to catch the eye.

Brushing the dust that covered the ground away from whatever it was and the surrounding area, she put her hands on the floor. Beneath her fingers and palms, she felt grooves that could only be caused by wood. She dragged her fingertips over whatever she had tripped on, and it was cool to the touch; smooth, and worn-feeling.

She shifted herself, kneeling in front of the thing, her hand on top of it all the while. As she shifted, she accidentally put more pressure on it; Glinda gasped as she accidentally put more pressure on it, causing the wood to ever so slowly give in.

A trapdoor? Why was there a trapdoor? That wasn't there before. Whatever would-?

Something told Glinda to think at that very her eyes yet again, she recalled that fateful night (and for the first time ever not having it hurt as she did so).

She remembered every detail perfectly; Elphaba's shadow standing in the center of those other faceless shadows, clearly trying to keep them from coming closer as there was no place left to run. She remembered the splash, that awful, shriek, then coming out to fin the odd liquid covering the floor and the black hat perched perfectly, dead center, in the middle of that gooey puddle.

Opening her eyes, she realized with a jolt that this _was_ the exact spot where she had found and seen those items.

If this was almost exactly where Elphaba had been standing... had Elphaba even moved the slightest bit, to just the right position, she could have used the trapdoor. That strange goo had been almost translucent, but with the lighting, and the hat with its wide brim... with the witch hunters too busy liberating that little farm girl and rejoicing their victory and Glinda too immersed in her grief, no one would have noticed that trapdoor.

And with everything so cautiously, carefully, and _perfectly_ laid out in a manner that could only be thought of by **one** person, that would only mean that-

"She's alive." Glinda whispered, shock suddenly seizing up her body. She knelt there, stock still, before the idea finally settled in her brain. A smile, so unlike her public one, a natural, genuinely happy smile that she hadn't used in years, slowly spread across her face growing larger and larger until her cheeks ached.

"She's alive." Glinda whispered again, repeating those two words over and over in her head, more giddily each time. Joy overtook her and Glinda felt like jumping up and down, felt like everything was better, felt like _celebrating._

But as soon as that joy had come, it left just as fast, one sudden question casting away all her sudden happiness.

'_Why didn't she tell me?'_

Glinda pondered over this, though try as she might she couldn't come up with an answer. Soon (much like before during her angry outburst) all that was going through her mind was a single thing, a statement:

**'_She didn't tell me.'_**

That very thought... no, that very **fact** hurt Glinda so much. She used to think there was no greater pain than the hurt she felt from Elphaba's death. She was wrong; this, knowing that Elphaba had kept this secret to herself, had to be it.

Once again, she asked herself why Elphaba didn't tell her. This time, she did come up with an answer- but there were ones that didn't provide her any sort of comfort, answers that came from the insecurity she had carried with her all throughout her childhood and adult life.

'_Isn't it obvious?'_ A snide little voice in her head asked her. When there was no answer but a waiting pause, the voice seemed to snicker, before responding to its own question.

'_She hates you.'_

"She doesn't hate me." Glinda whispered, tears building up once more. "She can't... during that last time, I saw that look in her eyes... she can't..."

'_You know you're just fooling yourself.'_ The voice laughed cruelly, before fading away to silence.

Glinda's tears had built up innumerable times that night, but this was the first time she had let them freely fall.

Normally, she would have disregarded what that voice said. But she was so vulnerable, so shocked, and so tired that she didn't – couldn't- fight it. She let herself dissolve into tears, openly sobbing; what was the point of lowering her voice? No one was here to hear her anyways.

For an indeterminable amount of time, Glinda cried. This has been entirely too harsh on her worn nerves. She wept and wept, finally stopping when the familiar embrace of sleep began to come over her. Dimly, she remembered it wouldn't last long- the nightmare would wake her sooner or later.

But it didn't.

She was in the place, the edge, the state where her body was getting ready to put her into a deep sleep. Just as she was about to let herself go, something happened.

Sprawled on the floor, still lying next to the trapdoor, there was an odd noise and a brief rush of air. Too tired to do anything but lie there, Glinda heard a scuffling, and suddenly, a gasp.

"What the- Who are... _**Glinda**_?"

'_That voice...'_

"Glinda, what are you doing here?"

'_Why is it so familiar?'_

"How did you know that I was...?"

'_It can't be... can it?'_

She heard the soft tap of shoes hitting the floor as they walked over, and then Glinda felt another presence settle down next to her; kneeling or sitting, she couldn't tell.

"I don't know why you're here, but... I'm glad. There are some things I've wanted to tell you for a while."

Although on the verge of falling into a deeper sleep, she pushed it back, struggled against it to hear what Elphaba would say.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Elphaba mumbled. Her voice sounded muffled; was she pressing her face into her hands? Or was it simply the way Glinda's mind had her sound? The ruler of Oz was pretty sure that this was a dream anyways.

"I'm sorry, I... I couldn't. It was for safety, Glinda; for me to leave, no one could know. What if someone managed to find out and I had told you? They could have used this against you, and I didn't... I don't _**ever** _want you to get hurt just for my sake."

If she hadn't been so tired, she would have snorted. What about those last five years? She couldn't do that though, even if it was a dream.

"I had to leave: I couldn't deal with it anymore. Every member in my family was, and is, dead. People calling me wicked, all because of the words of a fraud that they put on a pedestal and his _blowfish_ of a press secretary... and worst of it all, every human in Oz hating me. I've always been able to deal with people's less than pleasant attitude towards me, but maybe even you as well? That was the last straw."

Glinda gently felt a hand take her own. The realistic sensation didn't intrigue her- all her nightmares felt real, why should this dream differ?

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so **sorry**." She heard Elphaba whisper, her voice rough with emotion. She felt a thumb rubbing slowly, soothingly over her knuckles and the back of her hand. A moment later, she felt something land on her hand: something wet. Hazily, Glinda realized that it was a tear.

Now she was sure this was a dream. Elphaba, crying? She had never seen the woman cry, in all their years. Not even when Nessa died, did she shed a tear. The green woman had mourned, and grieved, but she had not _cried_.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this now." She heard Elphaba laugh. Glinda did not know why either- this _was_ a dream, after all. Perhaps it was what Glinda's mind craved to hear. "I doubt you've heard a word I've said. You're asleep, after all; you couldn't have."

"But... I wish you had." Elphaba admitted. "I wish you could- It's killing me to wait. I want to tell you of all the places I've been these last five years."

More and more rapidly, she felt the wetness spread over her hand. Glinda wondered why Elphaba wasn't hissing in pain. '_Oh; She couldn't have been allergic if she had survived that bucket of water.'_

"I want to tell you about everything- the things I've seen, the things I've heard, smelled, tasted. What I've learned and what I want to find out."

Glinda didn't need to have her eyes open to know what Elphaba looked like at that moment. Just from her tone, she could hear the fierce passion, the fire that Elphaba- not the Wicked Witch of the West- had been most known for.

"Most of all, I want to tell you why I came back." Elphaba murmured. Glinda felt the hand being brought to Elphaba's chest, pressed against where the green woman's heart would be, and separated only by flesh and rough fabric.

"You see..."

Glinda listened as attentively as she could, straining to hear well. Everything was beginning to sound distant- she guessed that it was because of the deep sleep that would finally win against her. What she heard though, was enough to make her not care if this was a dream. It made her want to let Elphaba, created by her mind or not, know that she heard.

With all the strength that she had left in her near unconscious body, she moved her hand. Underneath her hand, she felt Elphaba freeze, and halt the realistic rubbing that she had kept up until now. Racing against the time she had left in her semi-conscious state or in the dream, she let her hand drift upwards and cup the cheek she knew, real or not, was there.

"Elphie." She whispered, relishing the contact. It might not have been real, but all that mattered was that she could feel that skin again, soft as it was last time.

The last thing Glinda recalled before succumbing to her exhaustion was the feeling of a hand on top of hers again, rubbing her knuckles once more.

* * *

When Glinda awoke, she was pleasantly surprised to realize that she had not been forced out of her slumber by the nightmare, for the first time ever. The pleasantness of it all faded, as she remembered the events previous to her sleep.

Had it been real? Had it been a dream? Glinda didn't know. Her eyes after waking had remained shut; she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer to her own questions.

She doubted it was real anyways- but somewhere, part of her believed it to be true with all her heart,

But she couldn't stay here forever, wondering if things were real or not. She had to get back to the Emerald City sometime. The domestic workers (she abhorred the word servant) were not allowed into her room, but she had given them instruction that if she didn't call for their service at least once during the day, they were allowed in to see if anything was wrong. Glinda didn't want to think of what would happen if she found that she wasn't there. Yet the bed she was in was just so comfortable...

'_Bed?'_

Opening her eyes, she was greeted with the familiar sight of the carefully laid, aesthetically pleasing roof of her bedchambers, instead of the dreary gray stone that she had been expecting.

But... she had been in Kiamo Ko! She was sure of it! That couldn't have been a dream too, could it?

Glinda stretched out her arms, and realized that her hands were still clutching onto something. Holding whatever it was above her, her eyes widened as she saw that it was the gray blanket she had stripped off of the bed.

**There**! That was proof enough that she had been in the castle! But how had she come back? Glinda didn't think she had managed to conjure up another bubble and make it back all in her sleep again... or had she?

As if to answer her question, there was a soft noise, a quiet exhale by her ear. Slowly, ever so slowly, Glinda rolled onto her side.

What she saw made every one of her thoughts fly out the window.

Green.

**Green skin.**

"Elphaba." Glinda whispered, remembering to breathe once more only when the lungs in her chest were screaming for air and threatening to make her pass out.

Glinda's eyes traced over the verdant woman's face; her eyes, her mouth, her nose... everything was the same. Glinda's eyes stayed transfixed and her breathing slowed. Soon, her breathing rate was matching Elphaba's. On the outside, it looked as if her mind was void of thoughts; on the inside, it was the exact opposite, for her mind was racing.

It hadn't been a dream. It was real. Elphaba was back. She wasn't dead, she hadn't been melted. She was breathing; she was right here... right next to Glinda.

As Glinda watched Elphaba, her mind raced with thoughts; of her joy, of five years worth of sorrow, of hurt and comfort. But all of that didn't matter now.

Glinda crawled closer to Elphaba, and placed a protective arm around her waist. Once again, she slowly gave into sleep. As she waited for it to take her, she had one last thought floating around her mind. A thought about promises- like the one that she had made to herself. Like the one _Elphaba_ had made. But as she remembered what Elphaba had whispered to her last night, she began to smile, and everything distressing her faded away.

And right before she dozed off, with Elphaba's words from last night still in her mind, she decided:

Some promises were made to be broken.

* * *

'_You see, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't come back. But I had to break it, Glinda; I had to break it, because I couldn't stand being away from the person I love.'_


End file.
